


Her Guardian Demon

by avesnongrata



Series: Maria/Natasha Ficlet Collection [3]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1986231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avesnongrata/pseuds/avesnongrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night started off just like any number of previous nights, but now they’re in the middle of a tense, bitter fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Guardian Demon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Woodface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woodface/gifts).



> Written for Woodface, who prompted me with the pairing and the line of dialogue, "Shit, are you bleeding?"

_Why is this happening?_

The night started off just like any number of previous nights. As usually happens when Natasha returns from a mission, she had to be cleared by medical and thoroughly debriefed before being dismissed. A few bandages, a few useful new pieces of intel: it was all very routine.

She’d passed Maria on her way out, murmuring ‘my place?’ just loud enough for her to hear. She’d gone directly back to her apartment in the East Village, and Maria knocked on her door an hour later. Natasha let her in and promptly tumbled her to bed. This was becoming routine by now, too.

But earlier tonight, something went wrong. Natasha swore when Maria’s fingertips brushed a little too hard over a bruise, Maria scolded her about being too reckless on her mission, and now they’re in the middle of a tense, bitter fight.

Or at least it _seems_ like they’re fighting. This isn’t the kind of fight either of them is used to. This isn’t a battlefield, interrogation room, or even a sparring ring. There’s no shouting, no punches, no gunfire, just short, clipped sentences and angry silences. Mostly they’re just sitting on opposite sides of Natasha’s bed, glaring at one another.

 _Why is this happening?_ It’s not as if they’d agreed on a ‘no shop talk in bed’ rule. They had a tacit mutual understanding about the way these nights work, but they’d never discussed rules. Maybe the mission wore Natasha out more than she was letting on. Maybe they’re both just tired and frustrated and in need of a different way to relieve stress.

 Whatever it is that’s going on, Maria hates it.

Part of her wants to diffuse the situation, to apologize for whatever her transgression is, to say whatever Natasha wants to hear so they can go back to working off one another’s tension with hands and lips and teeth. The rest of her is too stubborn to back down, though, especially because she’s not really sure she’s done anything wrong. It’s taking a lot of willpower for her to keep her temper under control, to keep her voice even, to listen as Natasha lashes out at her, to avoid snapping back out of spite. In her angry and confused haze, she realizes she can’t really hear what Natasha is saying. She forces herself to focus.

“... not a soldier! You don’t get to control everything about the way I do my job.” Natasha’s reserved demeanor is starting to crack, her voice growing louder and louder.

Maria can’t help but raise her own voice in response. “I’m just doing _my_ job!” she practically shouts. She knows she shouldn’t, but she continues, jabbing her finger at Natasha emphatically. “If you don’t like it – “

She’s interrupted by a sudden stinging pain in the hand she’d just brandished at Natasha. She pulls her hand back, hissing. To her surprise, her hiss of pain is echoed with an angry hiss from the small bundle of black fur that suddenly appeared in the middle of the bed. The cat positions herself deliberately in front of Natasha and arches her back menacingly. The fur on her back and tail sticks out in all directions, and she swats her paw at Maria’s hand again.

“Liho, no!” Natasha scoops the cat into her lap. “How did you even get in here?” she scolds, stroking her fur back into place.

Maria nearly laughs in astonishment. “Your cat came to your rescue?”

“She’s not my cat,” Natasha insists, a barely detectable hint of affection in her voice.

“Well, she’s definitely your guardian demon. Ouch!”

“Shit, are you bleeding?” Natasha reaches for Maria’s hand and examines the scratches on her knuckles. They are indeed welling with blood, but they’re not very deep. “Come on, I’ll help you bandage them up.”

She moves Liho off her lap, then stands up and beckons for Maria to follow her to the bathroom. The cat follows them, keeping a wary eye on Maria. As Natasha cleans out the scratches and bandages them up, however, Liho seems to understand that Maria doesn’t actually pose a threat. She turns and pads back into the bedroom, leaving them alone.

“I’m sorry my cat attacked you.”

“So she _is_ your cat!” Maria teases, earning herself a nice, hard slug on the arm for her trouble. Somehow, the affectionate punch seems to clear the air between them. “Don’t apologize for the cat. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too; I shouldn’t have picked a fight. I was just so tired...”

Maria nods sympathetically. “Do you want to just go to sleep?”

Natasha raises a mischievous eyebrow. “I think we need to kiss and make up for a while first.”


End file.
